


The Blood of Heroes

by Sayl



Category: Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: Gen, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-27
Updated: 2018-01-27
Packaged: 2019-03-10 00:16:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,715
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13492824
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sayl/pseuds/Sayl
Summary: Grima Timeline: Lon'qu is training his young son, Owain, by taking him on a routine scouting venture. But things suddenly go very wrong...





	The Blood of Heroes

_                         T h u m p    t h u m p   t h u m p    t h u m p   …. _

      Boots trample across the ground, rushing through the mud and fallen foliage. Behind him he can hear his companions bringing up the rear of the retreat. He glances behind to see that Cordelia is still keeping up, despite the fall. Gauis is just behind him a few feet to his right, clutching at his arm. To his left Owain keeps ahead of even him as they rush back to the capital.

       It was supposed to be a routine scouting walk. No Risen had been spotted in days and Owain was still in training. He was highly adept for a boy his age, but still inexperienced in battle. A few Risen would have been little issue.

       But something had gone horribly wrong. The Fell Dragon must have drawn near, and it was apparent as soon as the evening skies shifted to a vulgar shade of crimson, an ochre glow much like death washing across the horizon. Cordelia had barely seen the Risen as they emerged from the dirt from all over as far as she could see before an archer knocked her steed straight from the sky.

         Though spread out as the Risen were, they were converging. If they didn’t get back within the city walls in time, the four would be massively outnumbered, and from all sides.

        The whistle of an arrow resonates through his left ear. They’ve been spotted, and none of them were skilled for ranged combat.

     _ **“**  Keep moving  **!!**_ **”** Lon’qu bellows. They’re close. He can see the walls above the treeline ahead, but they aren’t close enough.

    Specks of red light dot the darkness of the forest. There’s Risen in front of them too. He calls out a warning, drawing a blade from his side as he rushes forward, sprinting in front of his son.

    The gleam of his blade is stained red as his sword slices through the first Risen he comes into contact with. The body falls at his feet, but there’s a new swarm to cut through. Cordelia rushes into the fray, covering their left. Gaius draws his blade, taking on the enemies to the right despite his limp arm. Owain stays close to his father, as he’d been instructed. Weapon in hand, the young boy fights with the fervor of a seasoned warrior.

    Steel flies, the flurry of blades cutting down anything in their path as they make their way closer to the city. But the further they get, the thicker the Risen. At this rate they’ll be overwhelmed, but they have to keep moving.

    He can’t bear to imagine Lissa’s face if any of them don’t make it back… He’s seen that pain too many times these past few years, and it rends him from the inside out every time.

    Lon’qu draws his second blade, needing the extra weapon to guard from all sides. His hands are drenched in blood, only the grip of his gloves keeps the swords in his hands. But they’re making progress. 

_The Risen are thinning out, the walls are getting closer…….._

    Another whistle, but this time it stops short. The sudden silence is immediately met with a blast of pain in his chest. He calls out in pain, staggering backward and nearly falling to one knee. A glance down reveals the source: an arrow juts from his torso, a few inches below his collarbone near the shoulder. One hand releases the sword as he bites back the pain, fighting the dizziness brought on by the wound. Owain looks to him, eyes wide with concern. But his father doesn’t fall.

    The swordsman reaches forward, wrapping his hand around the shaft of the bolt. He rips the arrow from his chest, an almost feral roar leaving him as the arrowhead tears at the muscle. But he can’t fight with his dominant arm with an arrow lodged that close to his shoulder. He tosses it aside, both hands returning to his main weapon as he continues to fight. In his peripheral, he can see the look of wonder in his son’s eyes.

    They press on, leaving a path of carnage behind them. The dark blood of the undead runs through the pebbles, swirls of vermilion mixing in as the shepherds take hit after hit. Cordelia’s limping now, the injury from her fall catching up to her as she accrues even more injuries with each confrontation. An arrow rips through Gaius’ good arm. He’s out of the fight, but they’re so close. His legs are still good though, and they send him ahead to have the guards open the gates, and to warn the city of the incoming horde. They still have a chance, but it’s going to be close. The path ahead is all but clear now.

    An arrow from behind this time. It sails straight into Lon’qu’s lower back. He lurches forward, stumbling to one knee this time. He gasps, pain erupting from his left side. Owain calls for him, but the swordmaster refuses to fall. As he pushes himself back to his feet, he can feel the pulse of his own heartbeat in his ears. His adrenaline is pumping, his survival instincts kick in. He focuses on his surroundings: every snap of a twig, every uneven footstep, every muffled gurgle of the walking abominations. Cordelia rushes toward the archer tailing them as the Risen looses another shot.

    Lon’qu dives forward, blade swinging forward at an upward diagonal. It cleaves the wooden shaft, redirecting the projectile harmlessly into a nearby shrub: in two pieces. It gives Cordelia enough time to get to the enemy before it can nock another arrow.

    Owain is tugging on his arm now. He’s right, they need to go. He turns to see the wall just ahead…It can’t be more than a hundred meters now. The gates are open, the path is clear. He steels himself against the pain in his back. He can make it. Lissa will kill him when she has to remove it…scolding him for coming too close…But he’s just glad he’ll get to see her again. She can reprimand him for the rest of his life if that’s what it takes.

    They continue onward. Owain takes the lead, Cordelia bringing up the rear. The rush of his energy begins to spiral down now as the heat of battle dies down. He’s clinging to the sword he’s managed to hold onto, but his grip is loose. He’s moving slow, but he’s moving. He looks up to see Gaius at the gates, waiting and watching. Owain stops just meters from the walls, turning around to look for his father. Lon’qu urges him to get into the city, and not to wait for him, but he spews some melodramatic refusal…Something about the blood of heroes and never leaving a man behind. Lon’qu doesn’t have the energy to be irritated by it, he’s lost a lot of blood. He trudges onward, clutching at his side with his free hand. Every step sends a pang of agony through his body. A warm wetness slowly travels through his shirt and further along his fingers with every breath.

    He’s almost caught up now, but something catches his attention. The sound of a bowstring, slowly drawing back. His head whips to the left to see a Risen sniper hidden in the trees. But the aim isn’t at him…

                                   It’s aiming at his  _son_.

    He shouts for Owain, but the boy doesn’t see the danger, he just looks to his father with a look of questioning. He won’t notice in time to move.

    It’s a split second decision. He doesn’t have another choice. Lon’qu lunges forward, moving faster than he’s ever moved in his life. He doesn’t even remember covering those few remaining feet, he just dives between the arrow and his child.

    He can feel the pressure in his chest, but it’s not an explosion of pain like the first two. Not in the same way at least. His hearing fades suddenly, time seems to slow down. He can hear panicked shouts, but they’re muffled, like they’re miles away and lost in the wind. His head knocks back as his body pitches forward. But he doesn’t fall, not yet. His arms are wrapped around Owain’s shoulders, one hand holding the back of his head and his shoulders are pinched forward, [a human shield](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.pixiv.net%2Fmember_illust.php%3Fmode%3Dmanga%26illust_id%3D35397669&t=YTNmNDUwNzM2YmM0NDlhZDBmYmE5MzAwOTViMTgxZmNlOTk5NjYwYSx1bk04SExTRA%3D%3D&b=t%3A1elBsLDr4G_JXpOiz-o_CQ&p=https%3A%2F%2Fthesolitaryblade.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F170173958999%2Fthe-blood-of-heroes&m=1).

    His vision is blurring, but he pulls back just enough to see Owain’s face. The boy’s dark eyes are wide with both fear and hope. Terror at seeing his father shot down like this, praying that he’ll walk it off just like the other two. His mouth is agape, rendered unusually silent.

    But Lon’qu knows this isn’t like the first two. He doesn’t feel the pain, just the numbness…Just the pressure of the arrow in his heart.

                                He knows he won’t walk away from this.

    His breath is weak and slow, his legs give out and he falls to his knees. Owain realizes what is happening. Lon’qu lifts his heavy head enough to look his son in the eyes, eyes that are welling with tears, his words indiscernible as he begins to sob, choking on his panic.

    Lon’qu smiles at him, however weak the gesture might be, moving one hand to cup his jaw. His voice is raw, ever word hurts…But he only has a few seconds left.

_**“**  I love you, Owain **,”**  h_e manages to choke out, just before his breathes start to slip away from him. His vision is starting to give out now, his consciousness is fading. Another face invades his mind. Bright blonde hair, joyous blue eyes, a vibrant smile as sweet as it is mischievous. Owain is screaming for him, but he can’t hear him anymore. Lissa…He has to tell Lissa…But he won’t make it to her.

    His vision is all but gone, his strength is fading quickly.  _ **“** Tell your mother  **…”**  _he whispers, as he starts to fall.  _ **“** That I… love  **…”**_

    He can’t hold on any longer. The last of his life slips away, and his body falls to the ground at his son’s feet. There’s a moment of blackness, emptiness…

                    Then everything goes  _w h i t e_.

**Author's Note:**

> I originally posted this on my tumblr blog. Inspired by a fanart I found on Pixiv and Owain's A support with his father.


End file.
